Akamadoshi
by Zyran
Summary: From the realm of Bahamut, this tale follows the various adventures of a sarcastic, eternally curious Red Mage, who along the way meets multiple trials, and a medley of characters with who he journeys alongside.
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1 - Lighting of**_

_**A Crimson Fire**_

**T**he smell of a tavern is a scent familiar to any frequenter of the stools. The corner gambling, and

grinning barkeeps. Raucous laughter into one's drink, and busty bar maidens as far as the illuded ale would see. All escapes from what could be called a lesser reality.

Unfortunately, not all got to enjoy such an escape.

It was the time of day when the sky is on fire, that a man donned in armor constructed of black leather and white silver scales appeared from the twin doors of the structure. Everybody knows what to do when one of _them_ walks in like the back of their hand Mostly because everybody usually knows what happens next.

Most of the patrons went silent. While the drunkards remained wondering if the newcomer would be suckered into paying their tab. The idle chatter resumed shortly after he took a seat at the counter, closest to the door.

"One loaf of bread, please. White." The man ordered to the barkeep, with a lift of his finger, carefully watching the rest of the room, until he saw out of the corner of his eye.

A man from the corner, covered in an almost peculiar red outfit and matching hat. He watched this man walk out of the doors, sidling just a little bit, having mistaken his limit of consumption. With a grin on his lips, and an eerie gleam in the eyes behind his visor, he followed the man, leaving the bartender stumbling on his own words about the bread in his hand. White bread, precisely.

The armored gentleman, no doubted a knight from his attire, watched shortly as the man in red slid himself over to the fountain just in front of the tavern, where he could get a moment's rest amongst the townspeople, to get his head back together. Before moving towards him, the knight noticed a fencing rapier at his side. The man in red leaned over to the fountain, taking a quick drink. The knight walked up to him, putting his hand on the sword at his side.

"You know, it's a dangerous time for someone like you." The man's hat turned to him, not making eye contact.

"A dangerous time? Hm… guess not everyone will give adventurer's a welcome reception, even after all we do."

"Not a bright one, are you? If you haven't noticed, there are pictures all around the kingdom, saying to look out for a man dressed in a red attire."

The man finally looked straight up to the knight, with a look of calmed annoyance. "Don't be so naïve as to suggest all red is your criminal. You have the wrong civilian, so I ask that you leave me be."

The knight bared his teeth at the man, and unsheathed his sword, drawing gasps from the crowd around the two in the center.

"Don't play sarcastic words to a Temple Knight, 'civilian!" He held the tip of the sword right between the man's eyes, leaving him to stare into the blade. The man smirked at the sword, as if to agree with something it said.

"You know," he began to say, grinning up at the knight, slowly moving to the side, out of the blade's way. "There's something to be said about people who use their rank like this. Can you imagine what some people might think of this, a Temple Knight abusing a dranking adventurer?"

The knight had lost his patience, despite what little he had. He immediately rose his sword, striking off the adventurer's hat, and swinging it down, from the top of his lift, embedding the blade into the stone bench. The target, however, was not accompanying the bench in it's wounds.

"Over here."

The Temple Knight turned to his left, only to see wind-blown, blonde hair that had been hidden by the hat. Behind that hair, were eyes that paralyzed the soldier with fear, as if struck by magic.

After that moment of both their eyes meeting, the man in red thrust his sword from his side, heaving the hilt into a direct impact with his left eye. The sword sent him quickly to the ground, sending the crowd of bystanders into murmurs and gasps.

The man caught his sword, and stood over the knight, pointing the tip at his face.

"It's really not nice to knock off one's hat. _Especially_ a mage's. We take a lot of pride in those, you know.

I was really hoping it wouldn't turn into an irritable afternoon, but… let's hope I can have some fun with this, now that you've bothered me so much."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Ch.2 - Nascor ex Ignis**_

"So what are you going to do? Are you going to _kill a Temple Knight_?" The knight lay on the ground, under the mage, taunting him to put an end to this. "You'll be thrown into the deepest part of the oubliette, if not executed instantly."

The mage grinned a little, wiggling his blade in the knight's face. "Do you always assume you're going to die at every encounter? It's unhealthy to worry so much."

"When you're faced with as much incompetence as I am, you expect it. But that fun fact is unbalanced, because of you adventurer types. You disrupt the purity of all that is San d'Orian!"

With the last words being roared out, the knight flung his leg into the back of the mage, knocking him into a tumble. He then grabbed his sword, and took another swing at the mage, only to have it caught in the red gloves.

As he used the sword to pull the knight towards him, kicking his attacker away, giving him a quick moment to take in the last passage. Purity of San d'Oria? That sounded totalitarian for a time such as this, so long after the Great War. There were still some who had this thought, and to such an extreme? Regardless, this nuisance had to be put to an end.

The mage rose to his feet, and drew his sword, just in time to catch the knight's blade against his own. It was then followed by a series of encounters with each weapon, dancing between each other, causing some to worry, while others placed bets. In a quick moment of unguarded action, the mage was hit furiously with the back of the knight's gauntlet, the metal digging into his skin, sending him into a slow spin.

With a lift of his sword, the knight roared out to him, his face full of rage.

"_**Die, Hume scum!!**_"

Then, he froze. Those paralyzing eyes again, looking right into his. This time, though, they were filled with a bloodlust. The mage looked deep at the knight, turning this dazed state into a farce, and ran his fingers along his sword. His fingers glowed with a light red shine, trailing it into the sword. When he struck it against the floor, it turned into a glowing, burning blade.

With a foot thrust forward and in place, he swung his sword into the knight, from his ankles upward in a cross ward pattern, thrusting the knight towards the crowd, rendering him almost instantly unconscious, with no more than melted and singed armor.

The townspeople began to talk. Some cheered, while other's turned their children away from the sight. As the mage sheathed his sword, still lukewarm from the attack, he wobbled a little, back and forth in place. He turn around to the crowd, holding the back of his neck.

"Could someone kindly bring me some medicine? Movement and metal do not agree with facial structures as mine."

With that, he sunk to the bench, sighing in relief. But nevertheless, a worry hung over him. There were no doubt more like this one, and if such a thought were true, what could that mean for adventurers traveling in San d'Oria? Or worse, if it came to affect the townspeople?

This was something to be looked into. Something to keep him interested in the ruler's of this fortress city.


End file.
